Roulette 11
by Alexz85
Summary: It's been a year.Takes place after the bathroom scene at the end of 3x1. No real spoilers.  Damages, Patty Hewes/Ellen Parsons


**Roulette 1/1**

Title: Roulette

Fandom: Damages

Pairing: Patty/Ellen

Rating: PG 13

Spoilers: 3x1 (barely)

Disclaimer: All characters, events, settings and situations mentioned in this work are sole property of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, in constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be defamatory or factual in anyway.

Summary: It's been a year.

Author's Notes: Just my take on what happened and what should have happened after that notorious bathroom scene. Thinking about making this into a series during season three moments.

**_Not a day goes by I don't think about you_**

**_You left a mark on me, it's permanent…a tattoo_**

**_For Danielle_**

The air is too thick.

Even for a room with no windows, it's pea soup in here and it's becoming a claustrophobic like environment.

The conversation is short, and with too many pauses in between.

They smile and size each other up like a dangerous game of chicken. In a way, words between them, is a lot more like a game of Russian Roulette after all this time. It's exhilarating, and fun, an endorphin rush like they have never experience anywhere or with anyone else, and neither is planning on backing down any time soon.

Patty thinks Ellen has lost a little weight, but still-she finds herself staring in that way she's used to doing. Even with a year between them, it's easy to fall back into the usual social repertoire.

"What do you want from me?" Ellen asks. She really wants to know. She wants to know where the sudden indirect summons came from. She told herself as soon as the package landed on her desk, that she would not open it. She would not fall into Patty's little cat and mouse game. She told herself she would throw it away. Maybe burn the whole thing for her own, personal pleasure. But the package remained. When it was opened, she forced herself not to be excited. She forbid herself to hate the damn purse, but when her taste for fine accessories betrayed her, she absolutely and completely forced herself to remain indifferent and not call Patty.

And then, that failed. Her mind was restless and unfocused, and she caved. She called Tom and tracked her former boss down. And now, she wants to know why.

There's no room for pausing here. Patty knows this. A pause is too dangerous.

It's been fifteen months, after all. With a smirk on her face, she says quickly, "Nothing." And it's true. She wants nothing Ellen isn't willingly able to give her.

But Ellen does need a moment to think after that reply. Because "nothing" is not what she was expecting. If she's to ask herself, however, she doesn't really know what she was expecting. But what she does know, is that Patty looks really good in purple, and that this is Patty's sharp and clever way of being coy, but still, "nothing" is the wrong answer. And Ellen can be coy, too," You don't have to worry about me. I forgave you-"

Patty's lip twitches, but Ellen is still talking, so she listens.

"-all your secrets are safe. So we can just-" A small shrug, "-get on with our lives."

Patty is silent. Ellen smiles. Back and forth, they keep turning the proverbial gun from one to the other and no one hesitates for a second in pulling the trigger against their temple. They wonder who will shoot the bullet to end it all, but secretly wish it never does end. Not yet. It's this stubborn fearlessness of each other that seems to pull them together in an almost gravitational way. It's exhausting. And arousing.

"-did you LIKE the bag?" It's a fair question, Patty thinks.

Ellen, takes this opportunity to eyeball Patty's arms as they're crossed over her chest. She's got great arms. She's seen that torture chamber she works out in and it definitely works. She then thinks of her gift and her eyes glow all over again, "It's a three thousand dollar Chanel. Yeah-" She smiles again, because she can't help it, "-I liked it."

Ellen has always been a girl's girl. Purses, shoes, clothes. She loves it all. She appreciates it. And she appreciated the shit out of that purse as soon as her eyes landed on it, though she wouldn't have admitted it at the moment.

"Good. I wasn't sure if it was your taste," Patty tells her, not doing a great job in disguising her obvious self congratulatory glow. But then again, she knew the bag would be right. She shopped for two hours for it. But this is where it should stop. Any further and who knows where the moment will take them. It's been too long to know whether it would be a good or a bad place. Ellen doesn't seem like she's closing any time soon, so Patty does it for her, "It's good to see you." There. A turn of her shoulder ought to do it. That, or-

"Patty?" Ellen steps forward a little, reminding herself to remain at arm's length, still unsure of how close she's allowing herself to get. Approaching Patty is like approaching a wild animal. A panther. You just don't do it, unless she moves first. And even then, you run the risk of being ripped apart and devoured. Ellen knows this well, and therefore, some distance is required as she fleetingly scans Patty's backside, her stomach flip flopping once before she continues, "If you want to talk to me-" Patty looks at her and something in them offers Ellen a burst of confidence when she speaks evenly, but with a near seduction that just barely visibly shakes the other woman when the following spills from the brunette's lips, "-don't play games. You can just-" She starts to back up, staring playfully along with her words as Patty watches her, intently entertained, "-pick up the phone. And call."

Patty is glued to the spot where she stands, more than intrigued before the door opens and closes, Ellen disappearing behind it.

She's not facing the mirror for more than two seconds before she hears the door open again and in an even shorter amount of time, Ellen is in a quick stride back towards Patty who turns in unexpected surprise and inhales sharply at the determined look on the young attorney's face. She's not sure if she's going to kill her or-

She kisses her. She shoves her hard against the sink, crushes her thin frame to Patty's and does what she couldn't wait any longer to do.

Patty's lips are soft and recently glossed and they slip in the most delicious way against Ellen's.

The older woman is caught off guard and for a second, she doesn't know what to do with her hands, so they grip the cold ledge of the sink behind her, her make up bag falls onto the floor. A tube of lipstick, a bottle of perfume and a gold plated compact fall out and scatter about the bathroom in separate directions.

Ellen's hands roam everywhere her eyes have devoured in the past few minutes. They trace finely tailored articles of clothing, finger tips dancing over expertly sewn seams, and detailed buttons with patterns only visible when standing very close to them, the way she is now. The blouse is soft, so soft, her breath is warm and when Ellen forces her tongue inside her mouth, the moan Patty elicits is even warmer. Warm all the way inside Ellen, from the swell of her chest when she inhales, to the core of her loins when she presses her knee between Patty's thighs.

Ellen's tongue reminds Patty of red velvet cake. Something about it brings that image to mind, and this is enough to pull her from the initial shock. Her hands find Ellen's hair first, interlocking with the dark locks before they fall and curve over her shoulders. They're slim, but not bony. They're strong.

By the time Ellen's hands find the front of Patty's top, they're both breathless. The kiss is broken and Patty struggles to move, not away, but to maneuver a manner in which to touch Ellen, who is persistently still grabbing at her. She's relentless and her mouth is everywhere, raking her teeth against her neck, her collar bone, and once the top buttons of the purple blouse are undone, her chest. Her hands palm her breasts, while the blonde manages to squeeze between their grinding bodies and do the same.

They moan simultaneously. Thumbs graze atop erect nipples, thighs spread wider against shielding pieces of clothing. They stop thinking and all that's left, are the animalistic groans and whimpers against blushing skin. Tiny marks are left here and there, finger shaped bruises painted over a narrow hip, a fraction of a teeth mark bellow a right ear.

Ellen is panting, and one of Patty's hands is delving inside her coat. She hears a loud, wanting moan and it's here that she realizes it's her, not just Patty now, beyond self control. It's here that she realizes she should have kept walking because this is going to far. Too far too soon.

It's been four hundred and sixty five days, give or take a day or two, since they've breathed the same air, and they've just realized sharing the same take of oxygen is not good enough anymore.

To Ellen's surprise, Patty beats her to it and pulls back, her hands back on the sink edge, panting and eyes hooded before she throws her head back to breathe for a second. A soft groans escapes her and Ellen steps back as if she's been burned. Her legs are weak. And her entire body is on full alert. She licks her lips, glances at the mirror, and quickly wipes a small track of Patty's pink lipstick off the corner of her mouth.

Patty sighs and raises her head, eyes evened out to Ellen's as she waits expectantly, "Well," Is all she says before fastening her blouse, one button at a time, her eyes never drifting until the final one is done and she swiftly turns back towards the mirror. Her hands work through her hair, now a bit mussed, but fixable, "It' good to see you, Ellen," She repeats with a smirk and a quick glance at the brunette through her reflection. She appears suddenly calm and collected, save for the pink cheeks and blushing chest. She's back, as if nothing has happened. Except it has, and her body is fully aware of the release it has not found yet.

Ellen grins, seeing right through the facade, picks up Patty's belongings and places them on the counter, stepping closer than necessary as she wantonly eyes the older woman's profile, and replies in a tone she never thought she'd be able to use on Patty Hewes, "You look good, Patty."

When Patty takes her next breath, Ellen is gone. As she drops the last of her things back in her purse, she decides, she will most likely be picking up her phone to call Ellen Parsons in the near future.


End file.
